


If you're gonna run with me, it's gonna be a wild ride

by GhostRequiem



Series: I will always be your lantern [1]
Category: Trolls (2016), Trolls World Tour (2020), Trolls: The Beat Goes On (Cartoon)
Genre: Aftercare, Anxiety Disorder, Autistic Character, BDSM, Branch's yee is gonna be haw'ed, Brickoppy, Buckle Up we're goin' for a ride, Centaur!Hickory, Depression, Domme Poppy, F/M, Hand Jobs, Hand-wavy trolls magic, Happy Ending, Hurt/Comfort, In this house we support healthy poly, Learning Healthy Coping Skills, M/M, Multi, Oral Sex, Overstimulation, Polyamory, Polyamory Negotiations, Poppycock, Post-Traumatic Stress Disorder - PTSD, Praise Kink, Redemption, Shower Sex, Strap-Ons, Sub Branch, Suddenly Centaur AU, Switch Hickory, The Buck Stops Here, These three deserved a chance, Threesome - F/M/M, Why yes Branch it matches the HORSE LEGS, Yep that's a horse dick, horseplay, thigh-fucking
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-07-18
Updated: 2020-07-27
Packaged: 2021-03-05 03:20:34
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 3
Words: 11,455
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25217662
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/GhostRequiem/pseuds/GhostRequiem
Summary: At the end of the Rainbow is a wish.An aching, stinging pain chases him in dreams. A feeling of being heard, his secret plea acknowledged.Hickory wakes up, his mouth dry and limbs shaking, he startles, four legs wobble and give out when he tries to stand.
Relationships: Branch/Hickory (Trolls), Branch/Hickory/Queen Poppy (Trolls), Branch/Queen Poppy (Trolls), Hickory/Queen Poppy (Trolls)
Series: I will always be your lantern [1]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1854184
Comments: 21
Kudos: 75





	1. If you're goin' through hell, keep on goin'

**Author's Note:**

> Title is lyrics from Tim McGraw's "Real Good Man". 
> 
> I'm not remotely sorry for the shenanigans these three are going to get up to. Healthy poly, kinky sex, redemption for more than one character, and some healthy relationship building in there.  
> \--------------------
> 
> Chapter titles are lyrics from appropriate country songs; Ch 1 is from Rodney Atkins' "If you're going through hell".
> 
> Chapter One is SFW. There is some mild flirting and an implied naked Hickory.

Branch was throwing back the blanket and out of bed before the loud thump next door ended. A moan of pain followed, and he hurried out of the room he and Poppy were sharing during their stay in Volcano Rock City.

“Hickory? You ok?” Branch fretted, knocking on the metal door. After the emotional and exhausting few days- Attempted Rescue, Colors Drained, Music Restored, Peacekeeping Talks Amongst Leaders, many trolls decided to rest before starting their journeys home. Barb, feeling guilty and overwhelmed by the gentleness and kindness of the others, swore to personally help each kingdom rebuild what she had destroyed. Branch and Poppy gratefully accepted her offer of shelter before the trip back to Pop lands. Hickory, quiet and distant, stayed as well after a hushed fight with his brother.

Frantic scrabbling sounds from inside made up Branch’s mind. Luckily, Hickory was either forgetful or trusting, because the door wasn’t locked. 

“Hickory? It’s Branch. I heard noises and wanted to make sure you were o-” He stopped mid-word as he pushed the door open and light fell on the dappled horse-hide of his friend.

Crumpled in a twisted heap on the floor, Hickory was struggling to get up and failing. Each attempt made him sob in pain, hooves scraping the wood fruitlessly. Wide, confused blue eyes stared for only another second before Branch scrambled to his friend’s side, placing a hand on a yellow shoulder. 

“Hey, I’m here. I’m here.” Branch soothed, squeezing Hickory’s arm. The centaur troll looked up finally, his face scrunched in pain and shock. It took him a moment to focus and recognize his friend, not bothering to hide his tears.

“My legs don’t work,” Hickory choked. No trace of his northern accent came out. 

“Deep breath for me, okay?” Branch asked as he scanned his friend’s new limbs for injury. Hickory focused on regulating his breathing, Branch counting out loud the way Poppy had with him so many times. “Are you okay if I touch your legs?” he asked once Hickory had calmed somewhat. A gulp and a nod answered.

Branch pushed aside his curiosity with difficulty. He placed his hands on Hickory’s front right leg, fingers seeking tears or breaks. Not finding anything but a trembling limb, he repeated his exam on each leg. He took a deep breath of his own before speaking.

“I’m being eaten alive by questions, but for now, is it safe to assume you were not a centaur when you went to bed?”

Hickory shook his head. “N-no. Jus’ two legs.”

“Let’s get the blood flowing properly and stretch you out.” Branch helped hoist Hickory into a more comfortable position while he pulled each leg out, and began a firm massage from shoulder to hoof. He flexed and bent each leg carefully, stretching each one for a few minutes. Hickory continued to shake through the first leg’s treatment but began to relax when Branch began the second. By the time the blue-grey troll had readjusted him and moved past his barrel, Hickory tensed again, for a different reason.

“Branch. Stop.”

Hands were off immediately, Branch looking up in concern. “Did I hurt you?”

“No, yer fine. Ain’t wearin’ the clothes I fell asleep in.” Hickory shamefully admitted, pointing to the fabric on the floor, shredded when it had been unable to hold his new shape. 

Branch bit the inside of his cheek, his face darkening to navy. “I noticed, and I’m okay if you’re okay. I won’t continue unless you’re comfortable.” He held back any snarky retort regarding his friend’s new horse bits. The yellow troll searched Branch’s face and must have been satisfied, because he nodded in permission. Blue-grey hands returned to Hickory’s right quarters and resumed their work. Branch focused on being as clinical as possible; his friend didn’t need anything else on top of this.

“Do you want to try and stand again?” Branch asked when done. Hickory reached for Branch’s outstretched arm for support. He stood agonizingly slowly, his knees shaking. Wincing, he got two hooves under him at a time. His skin rippled in discomfort. 

“Feels like I kicked a fire ant hill,” Hickory grumbled, lifting each hoof and stretching his own legs individually. He twisted his torso around to inspect his new form. Shaking yellow hands ran down a dappled dark gold croup and thigh. He paused for a moment, focusing, and swished his freshly-sprouted tail. 

"Well, I-" Hickory began, interrupted by a gasp from the doorway.

"Sprinkles!! Hickory? You're. You're-" Poppy's shocked eyes took up most of her face. 

"Okay stop." Branch ran his hands through his hair, realizing this was going to be a confusing loop if it continued. "He doesn't know anything either. Can you go see if Delta will come down here, and if any of her folk have spare clothes?"  
Poppy nodded and took off down the hall.

Hickory laughed quietly, stamping a hoof. "Didn't exactly dress fer four legs las' night."

"If it makes you feel better, I'm a bit underdressed as well," Branch sighed, glancing down at his undershorts and exposed body with disdain. Hickory's worried face softened.

"Sorry ye don't like yerself. No complaints from o'er here."

Branch felt his face heat up again and tried to deflect. "Why did it seem like you needed a big hat to tip when you said that?"

"Reckon I do, now," Hickory chuckled. He took a few cautious steps forward, circling the blue-grey troll as he became more sure. 

“How’s the pain?” Branch asked, watching the centaur try out his new legs.

“Gettin’ better,” Hickory grunted, changing his walking pattern and speeding up. Branch quietly watched and remained nearby for support. His ear swiveled back, catching an echo of hooves from the hallway.

“Sounds like Poppy is on her way back with help. Do you want to handle it as you are?” Branch asked, picking up a small blanket. “I say this with no judgement. How ever you’re comfortable.”

Hickory chewed his bottom lip, making Branch wonder where his straw bit had gotten to, before he accepted the blanket. He struggled a few moments to wrap it around his nethers and tie loosely over his hips. He traced one of the dapple spots on his haunches in wonder. 

"Shoulda' known you'd be a good lookin' centaur," Delta Dawn said from the doorway, arching an eyebrow. She was followed by an anxious Poppy, who seemed to be rocking on her heels, and surprisingly, Barb. They carried a bag between them, dropping it on the bed as they entered.

“Clothes,” Barb indicated with a sweep of her hand. “So what in the hell happened to you?”

“Barb!” Poppy groaned, covering her face. Hickory scratched the back of his head, chuckling.

“Wish I knew, Miss Barb. Woke up like this.” He jabbed a thumb back at his rear. Delta had circled him while he focused on the Rock Troll. She held her hands on her front hips, smiling.

“How’re you feelin’, Shug?”

“Better now that Branch helped,” he admitted, his cheeks darkening to shamrock, “and since walkin’ around. Stung and burned like blazes before, couldn’t get my legs to do nothin’.”

“I bet! Magical transformation ain’t gonna be easy!” Delta smiled toothily, slapping Hickory lightly on the back. 

“Magic??” Barb scoffed, tilting her head, “What makes you think this is magic?”

“What else would it be, sugarplum? It ain’t hopes ‘n’ dreams. There’s been more magic in th’ air in th’ last fews days than you c’n shake a stick at!” Delta guffawed.

“So, what? It just...turned him into a centaur?” Barb gestured at Hickory. “No offense or anything.”

“Oh bless your heart,” Delta smiled, sickly-sweet. “You know nothin’ about magic. It’s about _intention_.”

“It’s true,” Hickory added, scuffing a hoof awkwardly. “It’s how my brother and I fooled ev’rybody.” Everyone turned and stared at the yellow troll. He sighed and began to explain.

“We used magic that only worked ‘cause we were blood. It helped us ‘share space and thoughts’, as long as we had th’ same goals. It’s how we appeared t’ be one body,” He glared at the floor, his hands suddenly clenched. ”Th' magic that kept Dickory and I in unison broke th' second I tol' Miss Poppy t' run," Hickory explained. "I ain't okay with any o' that. Dick and I fought. He left."

The room went silent, even as Poppy pulled Hickory into a hug. 

"I didn't want yodelin' t' die! But I guess I messed everythin' up. I kept thinkin' how much I wished I was a real Country Troll… things woulda been so much easier." 

"Honey," Delta smiled, putting her hand on his unoccupied shoulder. "You're a real Country Troll whether you got two legs or four."

\------------------------------------

Branch closed and slid down the door. He covered his face in his hands, slumping into a tight ball. The last hour had been emotionally fraught and uncertain, full of tears and relieved laughter. Delta had agreed to take Hickory as a part of her tribe, with the agreement that he’d “work off his debt” of trying to steal the Pop String by bodyguarding Branch and Poppy back to Pop Village and assisting them with the rebuild. They’d found plenty of clothes to get him started with a new bottom wardrobe, and after discussion between the Rock and Country Queens, set a time for Hickory to meet a Country Farrier and a Rock Blacksmith to be shod before leaving. Barb left to go leave a note for their blacksmith and Delta left shortly after, claiming the need for her “beauty rest.” 

Poppy eagerly helped Hickory sort the clothes they’d thrown quickly into the bag, and once the other Queens had gone, Branch’s energy had disappeared too. His brain was a whirlwind of questions, confusing emotions, all fogged with exhaustion. He didn’t notice when the excited chatter of the other two occupants had softened, nor attention being directed at him, until being lifted by a pair of strong yellow arms. Too tired to struggle, he gazed dully at the centaur in front of him.

“I reckon it’s time t’ hit th’ hay, Miss Poppy,” Hickory rumbled, lowering his voice to avoid disturbing Branch. “Someone’s tuckered out.”

Poppy finished folding the last of Hickory’s “keep” clothes and smiled fondly at the two men. “He can get overstimulated in social situations. He did a great job handling everything this evening.”

“Ye’ve no idea,” Hickory smiled, pulling Branch up. “I ‘spose I ought to admit somethin’ t’ both of ye. Wanted t’ wait fer th’ right time, but...never know when that’ll be.” He helped Branch stumble over to the bed, letting him sit down before continuing. 

“I’m right grateful y’all are lettin’ me help ye and keepin’ ye safe,” he continued, carefully folding his legs under so that he was physically lower than both of them. He took one of each of their hands in both of his. “I’ve come t’ care deeply for both of y’all. I don’ want t’ muck this up.”

Hickory stopped, unable to continue. He opened and closed his mouth several times before falling nervously silent.

“Hickory, I forgive you. I never held it against you for protecting your music. You’ve been protecting us and keeping us safe all this time,” Poppy smiled as Branch stirred, struggling to bring himself to more awareness, “And if you’re trying to tell us that you feel more than platonically about one or both of us, that’s okay too.”

Hickory bit his bottom lip, nodding. “B-both. Both of ye.”

“Oh thank the Troll Tree, we like you too. Now can we please talk relationship stuff in the morning after some sleep and coffee?” Branch grumbled, reaching to pull Hickory in. 

The centaur choked back a sob-laugh, and went easily. Poppy admired her men for a second before joining the embrace, running her hands through both of their hair. 

Hickory climbed up on the bed that was only his a few hours ago, and with a bit of finagling, ended up somehow as big and little spoon. Branch wrapped himself around Hickory from behind, stomach to back, while Poppy pressed her back against Hickory’s chest and pelvis. She pulled one arm over her side and entwined her fingers in his, sighing happily. Hickory stayed awake long after both his new partners fell asleep, half in wonder, and half in a terrified fear that all this good fortune was just a dream.


	2. I just want to make sure you know just who you're getting under this old hat-

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Hickory, Poppy, and Branch have the all important Poly Relationship Talk.
> 
> ...which is followed by some Relationship-Affirming Intimacy.
> 
> (In which they all discuss concerns, wants, needs, and begin to discover how they fit together)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Mind the new tags! This chapter is NSFW and in addition to poly negotiations and discussion of mental illnesses, there is some chatter about kink. Hickory is getting used to his new parts so there's some body dysmorphic - type concerns brought up. 
> 
> Chapter title is from "A Little More Country Than That" by Easton Corbin

A prickly sort of substance pressed against Branch’s hand. He was working his way to awareness, often slow to wake after being emotionally overwhelmed the day before. He traced patterns, running fingertips up and down absentmindedly, trying to decipher the source. It was smooth and soft one way, but coarse in the opposite direction. Enjoying the unique feel of it against his skin, Branch continued to touch.

Fuzzy voices nearby filtered in next. A higher cadence identified Poppy near him, while a low rumble sort of pitch was familiar but not clicking in his head. The speaking sounds continued softly back and forth, rolling over him in waves. He floated, not trying to force himself to process the noise, rolling his hand over the new tactile experience, fingertips to joint to knuckles to joint and back to fingertips.

Movement on the space near him, getting closer. Someone trying to get his attention?

“...anch. Branch?”

He must’ve made a confirming sound, because following his name was the gentlest of touches on the back of his hand, the one still stroking the spikey-soft texture.

Branch started trying to anchor himself. He focused on scent first, usually the least overwhelming. Clean cotton. Vanilla-sweet, Poppy’s hair. Day-old sweat. A mellow note, something leathery? Musky? Curiosity pulled him further out of drifting, cracking an eye open. 

Involuntarily, he clenched his hand as his senses were suddenly overwhelmed, causing a moment of blind pain. The touch on the back of his hand became a firm center in a sensory whirlpool. 

“I got ye, Branch. I’m righ’ here.”

Hickory. He’d fallen asleep against _Hickory_. 

He swallowed, his mouth dry and throat tight. There was no way he was opening his eyes yet. 

Something hard and smooth was pressed against his chin. He caught a whiff of clean water and gratefully opened up. Someone held the side of his face, tilting the cup for him to drink from. He sipped the cool water, relief and awareness like a balm. 

A hand found its way into his hair and he knew it was Poppy by the gentle familiarity of her touch. She knew not to tug, that light nails were okay, and more importantly, to move slowly when he was recovering from a sensory hangover.

The hand holding his must be Hickory’s, then. 

The realization that he’d essentially been petting Hickory while trying to surface from dissociation was almost as painful as the previous sensory overload. He tried to let go, humiliated, only to feel Hickory’s thumb trace the same patterns on the back of his hand that he’d been drawing in the centaur’s new horse hair.

“Yer alright. I’m here righ’ in front of ye. Miss Poppy’s behind ye, touchin’ yer hair. Give us a nod if’n ye understand?”

He tried, managed some sort of jerk with his head and shoulders. Hickory's hand slid up to his forearm and tugged firmly. Branch went, letting out an involuntary whimper. He found himself pressed against Hickory's torso, right along where troll skin gave way to horse hair. Poppy cuddled up behind, reaching around to hug. The yellow troll wrapped his longer arms around them both.

"This is probably a good place to start our Relationship Talk," Poppy murmured, keeping her volume down to avoid hurting Branch's ears. "Branch has some sensory processing and overload concerns. Last night was a lot for him, and sometimes a night of sleep isn't enough to recover. It's important not to rush or overwhelm. I usually start with one sense at a time, keeping things slow and quiet, like handling a bad headache."

"Like when yer ears ring after a loud concert?"

"Sorta. Like the noise at the concert is filling up a cup- and once it's full, everything after that spills all over him. He's told me it ranges from uncomfortable to painful."

Hickory made a hurt noise in the back of his throat, and went to move away. Branch grabbed at whatever he could reach, suddenly terrified of losing contact.

"No, no, it's okay, you're not hurting him!" Poppy reassured, one hand leaving Branch to soothe their partner. 

"... please?" the grey troll mumbled, trying to make his mouth work again. Hickory let out a relieved sigh and settled back into their snuggle pile. Branch cautiously opened his eyes, feeling more secure with pressure on all sides. Hickory was on his side with his legs folded against himself and Branch between the front ones. He had propped himself up on one arm and elbow while the other clasped hands with Poppy over Branch's ribs. Poppy's other arm was wrapped around Branch, a warm comforting press. 

"I, uh. Don' really like surprises. If'n yer sleepin' nearby an' I'm havin' a nightmare, might wake up swingin'." Hickory admitted, not looking at either of them. "Clocked Dick a time or two."

“Hey, that’s okay. Thanks for letting us know,” Poppy squeezed Hickory’s hand. “That’s why we’re having an open, honest talk. So we can listen and hear one another. So we can work together.”

Branch, who wasn’t fully verbal yet, gave a thumbs up where they both could see, earning a giggle and a low chuckle.

“How about we do this- let’s each talk about our wants and needs over breakfast. We can keep discussing our own concerns and quirks in the meantime?” Poppy suggested. “Branch, are you ready to get out of bed? It’s okay if you need more time.”

The grey troll’s colors brightened a few shades as he became more aware, more comfortable between two warm loved ones. He nodded, scooching down the bed to stretch without hitting either of his partners. 

“May I?” Hickory’s rumble was followed by a gentle touch to the back of his neck. Thumbs up, again. The centaur began to knead the base of Branch’s neck and top of shoulders. He went limp under strong fingers, letting out a garbled moan.

“Maybe sometime soon, I c’n work those knots out fer ye,” Hickory grinned, giving Branch a soft squeeze. Once the survivalist had shimmied farther down, the centaur unfolded and slid, back legs first, off the bed. He also stretched, reaching far above him and letting out a satisfied sigh. Poppy dangled her feet, watching her two partners.

“Did you know, you’re taller now?”

“Hm?” Hickory blinked at the pink troll.

“Yep! Definitely taller,” she hopped off the bed, bouncing over. She stood in front of him on the flat of her feet. “See?”

“Coffee now, size measurements later?” Branch grumbled good-naturedly, his voice rough with disuse. 

“Oh I am _definitely_ looking forward to that if it’s on the table,” Poppy winked and skipped to the door. “Aren’t you all coming?”

Branch and Hickory exchanged bemused glances, following their pink spitfire to the suite next door. 

\----------------

After a couple cups of coffee, some breakfast, and friendly banter, Branch was feeling more like himself. Glimpses of ultraviolet peeked out of his hair and his hands were warm around his mug. They’d all cooked together in the couple’s suite, each handling a different aspect of their group meal. Branch had cobbled together a cushioned footrest and bench with an added pillow so Hickory could rest at the table as well. He made a mental note to ask Barb for centaur-friendly furniture for the next visit, and already had doodled some ideas to build once back in Pop Village. His partners were chatting about visiting the fashion twins sometime soon in hopes of making better clothing for Hickory’s new shape, when Branch quietly cleared his throat. They both stopped talking and turned their attention his way. 

“Is it alright to have our Relationship Talk now?” He asked, his cheeks heating to a blueberry shade. “I apologize for interrupting.” 

Hickory bit his lip, nodding, and Poppy grinned, already reaching for her notebooks. Branch turned to the yellow troll with a glum twist to his smile.

“I'll start- I’m not good at hints. I tend to say what’s on my mind. I’m working on getting better about having more polite filters and better timing. Twenty years of near-isolation is a steep hill to climb,” he sipped his coffee, giving himself a moment, noting Hickory’s stunned expression. “I’m interested in a romantic relationship with each and both of you. Physical intimacy is still new to me, but I’m curious and feel safe exploring that with you all, too.” 

Poppy was scribbling away, blue ink filling one side of her page. 

“I can get overwhelmed easily by social situations, or high-emotion situations. Sometimes I need quiet time, sometimes I need alone time. I’m also working on communicating those needs,” he continued, staring into his mug, gearing himself up. He took a deep breath, bracing himself for rejection. “I struggle with depression more than most trolls. Some days will be Grey days no matter what is done, be it myself, or someone else.”

Poppy didn’t pause copying words down, but she reached over and quietly gave Branch’s knee a squeeze.

“As far as romantic intimate stuff...I don’t want to be made fun of, or mocked,” the blue-grey troll took a deep breath, counted to five, and took another. “I...I like pleasing my partner/s. I want to feel cared for? I’m...I’m not sure about consensual pain? I think I’d be okay trying most things, if we talked about them first so I had an idea for how things might go.” 

Hickory remained quietly listening, while Poppy jotted down the things Branch was sharing. She glanced up when he didn’t start talking again.

“Is that enough for now?” Branch’s voice wobbled with nervousness. Hickory nodded, and Poppy gave him a bright smile.  
“Of course! Share what you are comfortable sharing, we can also ask questions if we feel that something needs more clarification. I’m really proud of you, sweetie." She switched pens to a dark green one, making notes at the top. "For open communication purposes, Branch, I talked to Hickory about how to help you, while you were struggling this morning. Hickory, Branch and I have been talking about our own boundaries and needs together and with a helper for some time. He and I have recently been privately discussing each of our feelings regarding you, and if we were okay to have you as a third as well as partnered individually."

She jotted down her "group" comments, smiling up at Hickory. His face was stuck in a mix of surprise and bewilderment. 

“Yer...not kiddin’. Y’all actually...want me?” He stuttered, his hands hidden under the table, fingertips digging into his thighs. “This ain’t me jus’ bein’ naive an’ stupid? Yer okay with...th’ rest of me?”

“Hickory,” Poppy smiled sadly, “I’m sorry you feel so poorly about yourself. Yeah, we want you as our partner. You’re not stupid. And we would want you in any form you took, because it would still be you.”

The centaur felt callused hands slip between his own and his legs. Branch had taken action while Poppy spoke, preventing him from doing any unconscious harm. 

“I mean, I’m already off to a great start since I obviously like the way your new hair feels,” the blue-grey troll grumbled, smiling slightly. Hickory let out a relieved laugh.

“I’m jus’...I ain’t had anythin’ serious before. Hard when yer a bounty hunter, t’ find lastin’ romance.”

“Glad you found us, then.” Branch walked over to the kitchenette to refill his coffee. Poppy and Hickory’s face sported matching blushes.

“Get used to grumpy-pants being a sappy romantic,” Poppy giggled. “My turn, or yours?"

Hickory made an ‘after you’ hand gesture, so Poppy picked up a pink pen and started a new column.

“I second what Branch said about being interested in both of you romantically, as well as wanting physical intimacy. I’m more experienced, I guess. I like trying new things! I’m pretty open, and I especially like to cuddle any chance I get,” she grinned, bouncing in her seat a bit. “I’m okay giving consensual pain, but not receiving. I’m not okay with hair pulling or nose boops.” 

Her smile was somewhat forced after that comment, but she continued. 

“Since I’m Queen of the Pop Trolls, I do have responsibilities to my people, and may have to be away or occupied. I may also have to drop things to go help people. I imagine now that genre-troll relations are improving, I’ll need to be away at times, too.”

The men both nodded, Branch smiling in approval of her taking responsibility. Poppy finished her own notes, and switched out for an orange pen matching Hickory’s hair and tail. 

“Your turn, dear,” she poked his hand with the non-business end of her pen. Hickory’s tail swished from where it was draped over the footstool, his ears going more flat against his head.

“I’ll give it a shot. Like I said, be careful wakin’ me up, and don’ go sneakin’ up on me. Been a bounty hunter most o’ my life.” He fiddled with the toast on his plate. “I’m...echoin’ both of y’all- honestly I’d take any relationship ye’d give me.”

Branch returned to the table with an extra mug, one he slid to their partner. Hickory took a sip to calm his nerves, surprised and pleased that it was exactly the way he liked his coffee. He continued after swallowing.

“I want t’ do right by y’all. If I’m goin’ too fast, please tell me t’ slow th’ hell down. I like things a bit rough in th’ bedroom, as much as I like ‘em soft ‘n’ sweet. Usually like t’ be in charge...I’m a mite worried ‘bout my new body, though. It ain’t what I’m used to.”

Poppy finished copying down Hickory’s boundaries and bit her lip, grinning.

“Would you like help? Learning? If no one is opposed to some intimate snuggling this morning?”

Hickory’s face took on the darkened shamrock again as a back hoof stamped. Branch, who seemed to be expecting Poppy to jump right in, drained his mug and smiled softly at the centaur.

“It’s always okay to say no, Hick.”

“Naw,” Hickory chuckled dryly, standing. “I’ll be damned if’n I ever turn down one of ye’.”

“Are you sure? I don’t want you to feel forced in any way.” Poppy asked, reaching out a hand to the centaur. He took hers easily, bringing her knuckles up to his lips for a soft kiss.

“I’ve been rarin’ t’ go th’ second y’all said ye wanted me.”

\----------------------------

The throuple spent the morning together in bed, exploring one another. There were many bumps and giggles as they learned each other’s bodies, including Hickory learning more about his own. Poppy was the first to be bold and touch Hickory’s new shealth and subsequent shaft, her small hands working him over until he was a panting mess.

Branch and Hickory kissed and nibbled each other’s chin and neck over Poppy’s shoulder while the centaur slid thick fingers into pink folds, gently thumbing circles on her bud of nerves. By the time Branch was sporting beard-burn and swollen, bitten lips, Poppy had been brought up and over her peak three times.

Branch had been shy but willing when Hickory asked him to sit in front and let the yellow troll use his hands. Poppy switched to having Branch in the center and ran her fingers in soothing lines down grey-blue arms as Hickory carefully pulled Branch’s thick cock from his pants. He thought the dark blue to purpling color was gorgeous and told his lover so. The survivalist came, hiding his face behind an arm, while his partners praised him for being so good. 

Poppy slipped out of bed, coming back with warm damp towels. She cleaned each of them up, refusing any help and kissing each of them thoroughly before putting the towels in a laundry basket. They were in various stages of getting dressed when a knock echoed through the suite. The pink troll bounced up and went to answer the door. She came back shortly, holding a piece of paper.

“This is for you, Hickory. It’s directions to the blacksmith that’ll be crafting your new shoes. The Country Farrier will meet you there to help fit them correctly. I also need to head out; the leaders are continuing talks over lunch today.”

Hickory accepted the paper with a murmur of thanks while scratching his head. Every time he tried to get this back leather sling on, it twisted around on him. Branch took the straps from him and began helping him adjust and buckle in. The leather contraption helped protect his shealth and tuck him up from dangling during inopportune times, as well as provide him a sense of “clothed”. While he wore pants in his Country Troll disguise, he discovered the feel of pants against his new skin was uncomfortable. When he turned back around, Branch was carefully pulling trapped tail hair out of the sling so they wouldn’t be pulled.

“Thank ye. Yer darn clever t’ figure that out s’ fast.”

Branch’s face heated up, but he accepted the praise with a soft smile. 

“Will you be okay doing your own thing, or would you like to go with one of us?” Poppy asked while packing a small bag. Her various notebooks and writing utensils disappeared inside.

“I’m good, thanks Poppy. I’m gonna get some introvert time.” the grey-blue troll shrugged on his vest and began cleaning their dishes from breakfast. 

Hickory threw on his own vest, fortunately still in the bottom of his clothing, having been buried after his fight with his brother. When he came back into the kitchenette, Branch and Poppy were kissing each other goodbye. They turned and opened their embrace to him, each kissing a stubbly cheek. He kissed each of their foreheads in return.

“Be good, Blue,” Hickory whispered into Branch’s hair, pulling away with a wink. He and Poppy left together, splitting ways as they left the guest suites. She blew him a kiss, and he tipped his non-existent hat to her, silently vowing to fix that.

\-------------------

Branch was perched silently in a cushioned chair in the bedroom when Hickory returned that afternoon. He’d been writing out his thoughts from the last day, sorting them on paper the way his therapist recommended. He was so engrossed in his notebook that at first, he didn’t notice the frantic pacing in the main room. The clopping of a newly-shod centaur eventually filtered through his focus, and he glanced up as Hickory stormed into the shared bedroom, unbuckling his new harness, not noticing the grey troll in the corner.

“What's got your 'knickers in a twist'?"

Hickory froze, his sling half untied. Branch had never seen him look so much like a spooked horse.

“Hick, you okay?” Branch stepped closer, worry hurrying him across the room. He could see the muscles in Hickory’s back legs trembling. His centaur partner seemed to be looking anywhere but at him, his chest heaving. Branch’s fingers reached for Hickory’s shoulder, but his wrist was encircled by a large yellow hand before he could.

“Don’t.” Hickory growled, his voice low and gravelly. “Please. I can’t. I can’t handle ye touchin’ right now.”

The slap of rejection must have been clear on Branch’s face because Hickory softened immediately. He finally made eye contact; his pupils nearly swallowed the green of his eyes.

“I don’ wanna hurt ye.” Hickory let go of Branch’s wrist and moved to step away.

“Hurt me?” Branch blurted, sidestepping with his partner. “I’m not made of spun sugar. If you don’t want my touch right now, I’ll give you whatever space you need. But I don’t understand how you could ever hurt me.” 

Before he could do more than throw his arms up in defense, Hickory pinned Branch against the chair in the corner. Front legs framed grey-blue legs and strong yellow arms caged in the rest of the survivalist. Hickory’s face contorted in a wild snarl.

“Like this! I can’t quit thinkin’ ‘bout it! I ain’t your size no more, t’would be too easy t’...!” Hickory cut himself off mid tirade, biting his lip and looking up at the ceiling, taking deep, purposeful breaths.

Branch, who still had his arms up in a blocking position, suddenly felt like an idiot. Instead of continuing the guarded pose, he held his hands open and up in gentle surrender. 

“May I touch? You didn’t hurt me. You’re safe with me.”

Hickory’s chest rose and fell in those controlled breaths. He nodded, but Branch could see his eyebrows scrunching in confusion. Branch, never one to mince words or actions, especially when faced with a loved one in distress, slipped an arm between them. 

More confident about what he was reaching for this time, he tenderly wrapped his fingers around the first few inches of Hickory’s engorged member.

All at once, Hickory’s lower spine arched while his arms, still caging Branch in, spasmed. From under him, the grey troll could see his partner’s eyes widen and teeth dig into his lower lip. Using his hand to map Hickory’s length and girth, Branch began a slow, gentle exploration. The smallest, most desperate moan escaped from between Hickory’s lip and teeth.

“Hick,” Branch said as he pressed a kiss into the centaur’s chest, “I want to hear you.”

Hickory released a gasp, followed by a whimper as Branch ran two fingers along a thick vein. The grey troll was under no illusions; nothing about this cock was shaped like typical Pop Troll’s. Longer and heavier than Branch’s own, he took his time dragging his fingers from bulbous root to flat tip, learning what he could of this new part of his partner. 

“Is this why you were afraid?” Branch continued peppering kisses across Hickory’s chest, pausing to press his forehead against his partner when he reached further back to squeeze Hickory near the base. A rumbly growl from above him was his only warning before he was grabbed under his knees and hefted fully into the cushioned chair. Hickory grasped the back of his thighs, pushing Branch’s legs up and pinning him with his weight.

“Branch,” Hickory ground out from clenched teeth, “Ye don’ know what yer doin’ t’ me. I…I ain’t a bumblin’ innocent...but I ain’t never felt like this, before.”

Branch continued his slow stroking of what he could reach from this new position. “Explain it to me, then?” He glanced shyly up at the centaur.

“I don’t wanna hurt ye,” Hickory repeated, his hands now gripping the sides of the chair, “B-but I wan’ ye so bad.” His back hips began to rock into Branch’s strokes.

“Want me, how, Hickory?” Branch resumed kissing any part of his partner he could reach. He looked up to see the yellow troll screwing his eyes shut, his knuckles turning pale as he held tighter onto the chair. “Please. Tell me.”

“ _Damnit, I want t' mount you!_ ” the centaur snarled, the chair beginning to creak under his grip. “E’er since we talked ‘bout boundaries an’ limits an’, an’ yew kissin’ me ‘n’ miss Poppy usin’ her hands on me-!” he thrust into one of Branch’s rougher downstrokes, a groan cutting him off. 

With his unoccupied hand, Branch reached into his hair for a familiar-shaped bottle. He pulled it out and gently released Hickory, unscrewing the cap one-handed. Green eyes snapped open at the loss of contact.

“Before you worry, love, I’m just making this a bit easier,” the grey troll reassured. “I don’t know that I’m ready for that yet, but I’d like to try this?” He hooked his shorts with his thumb and started to tug them off his hips. Catching on, Hickory released his death grip on the chair to help scootch the bottoms up and off Branch’s raised legs. He massaged gentle circles into grey ankles, trying to figure out his partner’s plan.

Branch squirted oil from the bottle he had retrieved generously on the inside of his own thighs. Once plenty lubed, he added more to each hand and began slicking up Hickory’s throbbing cock. He placed the bottle on the floor out of hoof-stomp range, and as an afterthought, coated his own hardness as well. Grey-blue hands reached to grasp and firmly tug Hickory forward.

“A bit closer, Hick?”

Hickory went forward eagerly, groaning as Branch closed slick thighs around his heavy shaft. His partner increased pressure again by crossing his calves, folding them between the two men. Both gasped at the sudden cock-on-cock friction. 

“C-can you h-hold onto the chair again?” Branch asked, grabbing a nearby pillow to support his shoulders and head. Hickory obeyed and grabbed the head of the chair, partially rocking forward as he adjusted. 

“Mmph!” Branch arched his back. “You feel s-so good.” 

Hickory slid forward again, this time on purpose, enjoying the heat of his partner and the tight slide. He slowly pulled back, causing a delicious drag between them. 

"Oh good Lord-" the centaur groaned as Branch circled and thumbed the head, using both hands to press them together. He gave an experimental pump, then changed angles until Hickory jerked, trying not to piston forward.

"Acorns, Hickory, you're big." Branch panted, arching up into a particularly smooth thrust. The yellow troll felt a possessive heat build low in his abdomen. 

"Ye can't talk like that, I won' las' long."

"Can't talk about how I can barely get my hands around us both? Or how my knees would've buckled when you said you wanted to mount me?" 

Hickory increased his pace, a deep growl coming out between clenched teeth.

"Good thing you swept me up and pinned me," Branch was gasping and grinning, enjoying the effect he was having on his partner. "How long have you been hard like this? Is this what you were trying to hide?"

The wood of the chair was starting to splinter under Hickory's grip. He gave silent thanks to stone rooms; anyone hearing the rhythm of the chair against the wall would have no doubt as to the lovemaking within.

"Does it feel good to have me at your mercy? To know that I can't move, can only take what you give?"

"That's 'nough outta yew, darlin'," Hickory rumbled, and without thinking, gave a hefty swat to Branch's raised rear.

The grey-blue troll's eyes widened in shock as he jerked, suddenly cumming on his stomach and Hickory. The realization undid the centaur. With a few desperate strokes, he followed in orgasm, coating Branch's chest. 

Hickory’s territorial side purred, his eyes devouring the sight under him. His Lil Blue, out of breath and spent beneath him, claimed and marked.

Both men groaned as Hickory gently pulled his softening member from between Branch’s thighs. He helped his partner unfold and carefully lower trembling legs.

“We’re a hot mess. C’n I clean you up?”

Branch nodded, reaching for help to stand up. Instead, Hickory bent and easily scooped him into his arms, cradling his lover to his chest. He clopped over to their large bathroom and brought a shaky Branch into the shower. Grateful that he’d moved into the larger suite after his transformation, Hickory started the water running. He slipped his and Branch’s vests off, tossing them into the sink to be washed later. Without bothering to let go, he turned the spray on them both and proceeded to rinse them of the sweat they’d worked up. 

A quiet knock on the doorframe proceeded Poppy. She had Branch’s shorts in hand, which she added to the pile of vests. 

“Room for another?” her smile was soft and knowing. Hickory nodded, trying to push down a jolt of nervousness. 

“I came back to see if you all wanted to have dinner together, heard you, and didn’t want to interrupt.” Poppy unsnapped the strap on her shoulder and shimmied out of her dress and panties in one go. She stepped into the shower with her men, sighing happily under the warmth of the water. 

“I know things are still new,” Poppy said while wetting her hair, “I can see it on your face. If you’re worried I’m upset, or that the two of you did anything wrong, please be reassured that it’s all okay.” She gave Hickory a smile and stood on her tiptoes to kiss his stubbly cheek. She also kissed Branch, who had been half-dozing in the centaur’s arms. He stirred awake and handed a cake-scented shampoo to the centaur, pointing at Poppy.

The three assisted each other, each soft and loving with one another, taking tasks for a partner in affection-affirming ways.

Hickory cleaned Poppy’s fuschia locks, applying her sweet smelling shampoo while avoiding getting any in her eyes. He was carefully scrubbing her scalp, when he felt an inquiring pat on his haunches. Branch smiled dopily at him, a curry comb in one hand, and soap in the other. He nodded, stamping a back hoof nervously.

Branch eased his worries immediately as he worked the curry comb in tight circles, thoroughly cleaning from spine to hoof. He paused to grab what looked like an oil mixture and a long-tooth comb. Nimble fingers worked the liquid into Hickory’s tail and braided the hair when done. 

Together, the pink and yellow troll washed their grey-blue partner when it seemed his energy dropped. By the time they were spraying each other down in a final rinse, Branch seemed to sway on his feet and kept locking his knees.

“Come on, now. Let’s get ye dry and int’ bed,” Hickory smiled at his stubborn man. 

“Just a nap,” Branch grumbled from inside the towel he was using on his hair. “I want to do dinner with you and Poppy.” 

It took Hickory longer than he thought to get himself mostly dry. By the time he was confident he wasn’t uncomfortably damp, his partners were both snoozing on their bed, a centaur-sized gap left open for him. A sob suddenly escaped him, unable to process his happiness. He covered his mouth to stifle the noise, overwhelmed for a moment with gratitude and adoration for the two trolls in front of him. 

She must have heard anyway, because Poppy had one eye open. She reached out for him, making grabby-hand motions. Hickory gratefully went to her, wrapping himself around the other side of Branch. He grasped Poppy’s hand over their partner, much like their first morning together. Poppy stretched her hair over to the bedside table to pull in a book, opening it across her propped up knee.

“Sleep, my loves. I’ll wake you in a bit and we can share dinner together.”

Hickory obeyed, the image of Poppy’s soft, beatific smile, the last thing he saw before sliding into slumber.


	3. That's the only way I know: Don't stop 'til everything's gone

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Hickory comes out a night terror in a bad way, clocking Branch. Feeling terrible, he seeks to punish himself and instead finds redemption, forgiveness, and love waiting for him.
> 
> Branch drops the F-bomb.
> 
> Hickory discovers submission. And glass dildos.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> As per usual, mind the new tags.
> 
> Warnings for this chapter: Angst, self-punishing coping methods, talk of past trauma, accidental harming of a loved one during a night terror.
> 
> This Chapter is very NSFW.
> 
> Chapter title is from "The Only Way I Know" by Jason Aldean, Luke Bryan, and Eric Church

Someone was frantically calling his name.

Feeling like the ground dropped out from under his hooves, Hickory awoke with a jolt.

The first thing he noticed, after keeping himself from throwing up as the room spun, was that he could smell blood. The second thing was that he could not move his arms, as they were pinned up against the wall.

The centaur blinked, shaking his head and trying to clear out the night terror still screaming in the back of his mind. 

“Honey? Hickory? Can I touch you now?” Poppy’s worried voice came from somewhere nearby.

“Best not,” He replied, tasting blood now. “I ain’t seein’ straight.”

“Considering whom you’re dating, I’d hope not.” Branch’s voice sounded wrong, strained. Hickory squinted, finding his man crouched not far in front of him. He was the reason Hickory was pinned, his black locks tightly holding yellow arms up. He was in a protective position in front of their gal. There was a bruise purpling on one cheek and brow, swelling forcing the eye mostly shut. Hickory hung his head, not bothering to fight the restraint.

“..did I hit ye.”

“Hickory, it’s okay, we understand that you didn’t mea-” Poppy began. Hickory barked out a bitter laugh.

“Ain’t even been a day and I already mucked this up. Should’a known I don’ deserve either o’ ye.”

“Oh, fuck off.”

Hickory’s head snapped up at the curse, and Poppy made an indignant squeak. Branch glared at Hickory, straightening. 

“You heard me. Fuck off with that talk.” He walked up to the centaur, his hair not letting go of Hickory’s arms, gathered his face in grey hands, and kissed him fiercely. “I knew you might have night terrors from the way you talked about being careful when you were waking up. I have them too. And I still put myself next to you, and will continue to do so.”

Hickory felt his knees begin to buckle. Branch helped lower him down, legs folding under. The second his arms were released, he tried to back away.

“It’s okay, stop, no one is mad at you-” Poppy ran forward.

“ **I’M MAD AT ME**.” Hickory snarled, burying his face in his hands. He heard Branch ask their pink partner to stop, to give him some space.

“It’s taking every hour of therapy I’ve ever had to not rush to you right now,” Branch informed him, sitting on the floor nearby. “I understand hating yourself because you hurt someone you care about.”

“What would a Pop Troll know ‘bout-”

“I was singing loudly near a large predator, attracted their attention, and my Grandmother sacrificed herself to save me from being eaten as a child.”

The room went silent. Hickory thought he hated himself thirty seconds ago; he definitely hated himself much more now. 

“I hear you,” Branch said softly. Hickory looked up at his partner, tears mingling with the blood on his face. “Night terrors don’t come from a life of cupcakes and rainbows. I know you’re feeling bad that you struck out during an episode. But, Hick...we’re right here. We’re not going anywhere. Please let me at least clean your lip?”

Hickory wiped his face with the back of his hand, coming away with a surprising amount of blood.

“When you started to thrash, Branch tried to wake you gently. You swung, and I think in the chaos, you may have caught an elbow.” Poppy gently placed a cold pack in each of their hands. 

“Yeah, that was me. I tried to deflect, realized it would have struck Poppy, and flailed a bit.” Branch admitted, hissing in pain as he pressed the compress to his cheek. “Sorry, Hick. Next time I’ll go in hair, first.”

“How...how’re ye so _calm_ about this? Ain’t ye mad?”

“It doesn’t help,” Branch stared at the floor with his one good eye. “Being mad. Pushing people away. Doesn’t help in the long run.”

Poppy moved forward, pausing until Hickory nodded, and began to clean his face. He ignored the sting of the disinfectant, holding completely still.

"I get it. You want to punish yourself because you feel you've done wrong. But that becomes an endless loop of self-harm. You gotta stop before you're ahead. Let Poppy and I be your logic filters when your brain is lying to you." Branch continued, tracing the square patches on his shorts with a finger.

"Branch, I'm so proud of you for saying those things. And Hickory, I'm proud of you for letting us help, and for listening." Poppy praised them, redirecting the cold pack to the split lip.

"I'm still working on all that, too," the grey troll mumbled. "It's not easy. But it gets easier, every time you choose to be good to yourself, instead."

“I d-don’ know h-how t’ even start...but I’ll try.” Hickory swallowed around an anxious lump in his throat. “I want t’ be better fer y’all.”

Poppy seemed to be unable to stop herself this time, squeezing the centaur in a tight hug without asking. Hickory held her, trembling, their partner’s words slowly sinking in. Branch had come over but waited, not wanting to overwhelm. Hickory gently touched Branch’s uninjured cheek, biting his lip to suppress the sob building in him. The grey troll curled in around Hickory on the other side, running a hand through orange hair.

“It’s okay to cry,” he said quietly, “It’s hard for me sometimes, too. But it’s healthier to get it out, rather than repress that hurt.”

“I ain’t th’ one who got hit! I don’ got any right t’...t’...” a hiccup, then a sob, and suddenly Hickory couldn’t breathe. 

Everything seemed to be washing over and flowing out of him at once. 

_The purposeful betrayal of the Pop Trolls. At first disguising as, and then envying, the Country Trolls. Getting attached to his bounties. The fear of losing the music he’d grown up with, and the music he’d so recently come to love. Torn between following through, and keeping his new friends safe. Fighting with his brother. Watching his new friends captured, hurt, turned. Having his colors stolen, all music drained from everyone._

Hickory was gasping for breath, barely aware that he was talking aloud through each of these rolling waves of painful memories that he’d tried to stuff in a box, far in the back of his head. He’d gone limp, his torso held up by his partners as he broke down.

 _Having hope and colors again- only to get in the worst fight with his elder brother, to possibly lose him. Admitting that he wanted to be a part of the Country Troll tribe, even if he’d never be a real one. Thinking that Branch and Poppy were lost to him, when he finally accepted that he felt strongly for them._

The yellow troll heard a sound from far off, dimly registering that it was probably him; a low wail of pain.

_Then, alone, terrified of what happens now? The dream, smothering pain, bones snapping and readjusting, muscles tearing and knitting, ligaments stretched and warped. His skin on fire and every inch itched at the same time. Even his hair had burned, until-_

Branch was touching him again like he had that night, except this time Hickory was being cradled between both his lovers. They wept with him, having heard his hysterical recounting of his journey and excruciating transformation. 

_Overwhelming joy at **belonging**. Becoming someone he was happy to see in the mirror. Sharing the secrets he’d kept in his heart, to have them held like he was something loved, something valued. And then-_

_He’d punched his lover. He’d **harmed** his lover._

The hurt sound coming out of Hickory changed to a rapid litany of “I’msosorry!” over and over. He felt both partners hold him tighter. Neither tried to shush him. Neither told him that things were going to be okay. Instead, they said things like

“I love you.”

“We’re here with you.”

“You’re forgiven, always.”

“You’re safe here.”

“ _We love you_.”

He didn’t know how long he lay folded on the floor and boneless in his partners’ arms. At some point, Poppy had gotten up, left the room, and come back. A blanket had been thrown around him, pillows squashed against them to cushion their bodies from the floor. A warm, savory scent nearby made Hickory realize they’d probably missed dinner. Every joint aching, he looked up.

The pink Pop Troll was quietly bustling around their kitchenette. Three bowls, trays, and cups were being set out and prepared. The scent ended up being a stew getting ladled into bowls, making the centaur’s stomach grumble.

“Hey, there you are,” Poppy smiled at him. “How’re you feeling?”

“Wrung out,” Hickory croaked. 

"When...when was the last you...cried? Talked to someone about all this hurt inside you? We've been through some pretty rough stuff recently." She asked, coming over to brush hair away from his face. Hickory started shaking his head, and was hit with pain along his cheek bones and behind his eyes.

"Stop, sweetheart. I imagine you're hurting after a breakdown like that. Let me get food and water in you," She kissed his nose gently, and returned to her tasks in the kitchen. 

Hickory pulled the blanket tighter around him, shuffling into a more comfortable resting position. Branch was nowhere to be seen. 

"He needed some time to himself, I think," Poppy had returned with one of the trays of food and drink. "He doesn't talk about his past easily. And don't start beating yourself up about that too," she bopped his hand lightly with a spoon. "He chose to share. Don't take responsibility for his choices."

“She’s right,” Branch rasped, reappearing from the bedroom. Hickory would have cried again if he had the energy; his partner’s face was a mess of purple bruised swelling, the only color on him aside from his eyes. “Can we cuddle in bed after dinner? I really need contact from both of you.”

“I’ve already cancelled my evening plans and one of the cooks was nice enough to drop off dinner for us,” Poppy soothed, stroking Branch’s cheek and then through his hair. 

“Are ye sure ye want me t’-”

“Damnit, cowboy! If I wanted you to stay away, I’d tell you so!” Branch snapped, looking like he was frayed, unwinding. “You gotta trust me to communicate what I need. And after food, I need to lay in bed with the two people I love the most and feel their skin on mine because if I don’t get affirmations that you two are safe-” he started to choke “and _alive_ and _unhurt_ , I’m, I’m-”

Branch didn’t get a chance to break further down as Hickory lurched upright and yanked both partners to him, scooping them right off the ground. There wasn’t much crying this time, but there was a terrified tightness to their embrace. 

“We all need to eat, and then I agree that we all need some comfort as a unit,” Poppy reminded after a few minutes of being pressed together. Hickory slowly released them, letting them slip to their feet. 

"By the way," Branch paused, reaching into a pocket and pulling out a glass bottle. He opened it and shook out a few small, hand-rolled spheres. "These are white willow bark. I keep some with me always; they're good for pain. I usually have a bad headache after a heavy cry. I flavored them with lemon zest and honey, but they're best to swallow with drink."

Hickory gratefully accepted a cup from Poppy. Branch's face twisted in confusion for a moment as he opened the jar.

"I was going to suggest two, but considering that's taking into account the size of an average Pop Troll, you may want to try four."

"Thank ye," Hickory murmured as the grey troll dropped the pain treatment in his hand. Branch explained how to take some liquid in his mouth and then pop them in to swallow as Poppy went to finish plating their dinner. They both laughed at the pinched look on their lover's face.

"Yeah, they're pretty bitter. The honey and lemon help a bunch, so just think of what this is like without."

Poppy handed Hickory a buttered roll to get the taste out of his mouth while Branch helped bring everything to their pillow pile. 

At first, Branch struggled to eat anything. He picked up his spoon and put it back in the bowl several times before Poppy pressed a pink foot to grey thigh and Hickory followed suit with a gentle back hoof. A bit more centered, he made it through his stew. Their meal was quiet, a murmured request here or there. They cleaned up together, each taking a task without being asked. There was an awkward lull when the final dish was put away.

“Bed,” Poppy huffed, making a shoo-ing motion. The men obeyed, one too tired, the other too nervous to argue. Hickory didn’t know what to do with his hands. He was suddenly overwhelmed with the desire to apologize again, to leave, to kneel, to do anything that would fix the damage he had done.

The moment that they were all in the bedroom, the anxious-nervous bubble burst. Hands were everywhere, stripping Branch’s shorts and Poppy’s dress, the only clothes that had been bothered with since their shower.

Hickory knew he was being heavier-handed and couldn’t stop. He needed to feel handfuls of his lovers, needed to feel them come apart under him. He wanted to beg for forgiveness with his fingers and tongue, to receive clemency through gasps and moans. 

He laved soft pink folds first; with each lap he pleaded for her mercy, nuzzling her thighs with his bristly cheeks. Lips engulfed her glistening bud, licking his way to absolution. 

When his queen was shivering and panting, resting between highs, he turned his supplication on their dusky partner. Desperation roughened their grabs and holds of each other; orange hair tugged a bit too hard when the cowboy swallowed Branch down to the root. He pulled back to suckle the head, tongue tip tracing along the slit.

He sought amnesty through pleasure, ready to endure whatever discomfort, but not once did Branch force his head down or buck up into the wet heat of Hickory’s mouth. Instead, he kept his hand in the centaur’s hair, tugging and soothing, his whimpers and moans purging Hickory of lingering blame. 

Just when Hickory had taken Branch’s thickness as far as possible and swallowed around him, the grey troll firmly tapped him twice. From where he’d been gently rolling them in one hand, Hickory felt his balls tighten up and renewed his efforts. A flash of panic across grey features until Hickory buried his nose in black curls, humming in approval. 

The centaur did his best to swallow as Branch came, biting his lip mid-cry, his lover’s name a choked moan. 

Pulling carefully off his partner, Hickory tried to catch his breath. Poppy reached forward to wipe cum from his chin, licking her own finger. 

“Fuck,” Branch groaned, fingers twitching.

“Hickory, babe, if I didn’t know better, I’d think you’re trying to make up for something,” Poppy purred. The centaur did his best not to shrink back from his smaller lover, whose wicked grin was immediately worrisome. 

“We haven’t talked about this yet, and no matter what, you are always free to say no to something,” She continued, sliding off the bed and rummaging in a bag nearby. She came back with a bundle of leather straps clasped to metal O-shaped rings, and a long rectangular case. Branch sat up, curious and eager. The pink troll opened the case to reveal multiple glass pieces. She lifted each out to let them examine the items.  
Each was slightly larger than the last, and each a different color swirled into clear glass. 

“They’re hand-made blown glass by artisans here in Volcano Rock City,” Poppy explained while the boys ran their hands over the items. Every other varied in texture as well; swirls, ridges, bumps. 

“What in tarnation are they? They look an awful lot like-”

Branch suddenly made a gurgling laugh. “They’re phalluses.”

“Yeah,” Poppy was back to her seductive purr. “And I was hoping to use them on one or both of you someday. I picked them up originally for myself, and one of the artists offered me this harness, ‘should I need it’.” She held up the jumble of straps, letting it fall in the fashion it would be worn.

“I’d do jus’ about anythin’ t’ please ye, miss Poppy,” Hickory rumbled, his voice dropping an octave at the sudden rush of heat through his body. “I don’ know a lick about all this. C’n ye go slow?”

“Of course, sweetheart,” Poppy reached for his chin, pulling him in to kiss him roughly. Hickory felt himself melting under his demanding queen’s ministrations. She bit his bottom lip as she pulled away. “Branch, honey, how about you?”

“I don’t think I can handle anything penetrative tonight, but I’m yours for whatever your clever mind is brewing.” He reached over the side of the bed and after a moment, pulled a bag of bottles up to them. He glanced at their lover, who seemed dazed. “You should talk safewords before you go further, Poppy.”

“Mmhmm.” she ran a finger through Hickory’s scruff, and then along his jawline. He glanced between the two, suddenly worried at their teamwork. “I’d like you to pick a couple important words for me, cowboy. One word you say if you need things to slow down, or you’re not sure. And another word that will mean everything stops.”

“I...I don’ want t’ make ye stop,” Hickory forced himself to not pull Poppy against him by grabbing handfuls of bedding.

“Honey, there’s nothing wrong with asking things to stop if you need them to. These words are to let us know that things need to change. We’re not going to leave you, or the room, unless you need that too. It just means whatever I’m doing will slow down, or stop completely.”

The centaur glanced between his two partners. They were not pushing him, or advancing. They were waiting, their hands soothing him. He thought about what Branch said earlier, about being kind to himself.  
“Erm...how about ‘Snow’ fer slow up an’ ‘Ice’ fer stop?” He asked, avoiding words like ‘String’, ‘Liar’, ‘Yodel’, -

He yelped in surprise as Poppy bit his ear. She gave him an accusatory eyebrow.

“Your face did the ‘Spiral in self-hating thoughts’ thing. But yes, those words are perfect.” She accepted a bottle from Branch, popping the lid. Hickory recognized the scent from the oil used earlier on grey thighs and hardened more. His lovers noticed, one smiling shyly and the other grinning in satisfaction.

“Remind me to wear this scent in my hair, sometime,” Poppy breezed, sliding her non-oiled hand down Hickory’s flank. He shivered nervously. “I’ll start as slow as possible, honey, and if you are uncomfortable or don’t like it, we stop and try something else, okay?”

Branch wiggled closer, tapping Hickory’s bicep. Hickory focused on the partner in front of him, kissing where he could, soft and gentle around the bruising on his face. Poppy trailed her hands over his rump, keeping her hands on him constantly, so there would be no surprises.

When he felt her stroke along his cheeks, Branch nipped an ear. He let out an involuntary whine.

“Mm, Poppy, it looks like our boy’s ears are sensitive.” Branch commented, fingertips trailing pointed eartip. Hickory flushed, his hands clenching at Branch’s sides. “And likes observing out loud?”

“Watching the two of you kissing has me soaked,” Poppy added, leaning over a bit to catch Hickory’s reaction. He bit his lip to keep a groan from escaping, failing when Branch ran a thumb over a nipple.

“Remember what I said this afternoon, Hick?” Branch leaned forward, “We want to hear you.” He licked a stripe up and over the same nipple, blowing air over it before moving to the other. 

“Son of a-!” the centaur swore, jolting. His grey partner repeated the treatment to the other side as he felt Poppy’s finger circle the ring of muscle. He had an idea for how this would go, and tried to relax as she pressed in. Branch continued to touch, soothe, and build his pleasure from the front while Poppy patiently, gently worked his muscles looser. By the time she had two fingers inside him, he was pressing back for more. 

“How’re you doing, sweetie?” Poppy asked, running her nails along his thigh while slowly scissoring her fingers inside him.

“There a word fer more?” Hickory panted, throwing an impish grin over his shoulder. “You fixin’ to go anywh-!” His jibe cut into a short, low cry as her fingers touched something inside him. She pressed harder, the pads of her fingers stroking the bundle of nerves, and he _keened_.

“You ready for more than my fingers?” She asked sweetly, continuing to move in and out of him.

The centaur troll let out an embarrassing whine, dropping his head to Branch’s shoulder. The grey troll chuckled, and ran his hands through orange hair.

“I asked you a question, cowboy.” Poppy stilled her fingers.

He nodded against their partner, grinding back. Still, Poppy didn’t move.

“Hm, guess not,” she teased, pulling her fingers out.

“Yes! Please, Please, Miss Poppy!” he wailed, and was immediately rewarded with something slightly larger and firmer than her fingers. He whimpered through the stretch of the glass toy, and soon was panting again as Poppy slid it mostly out and then back in again.

“Good boy, Hickory. Thank you for telling me what you need.”

Branch laughed at the garbled response from Hickory, kissing him as he lifted from his drooped pose. 

“Gonna be th’ death o’ me.”

Poppy began to increase the speed of the toy, checking in with him every few minutes. He started responding with less and less clarity, slurring his responses. Branch started translating for him to Poppy after one particular rub over his prostate left him incoherent. The entire time Poppy had been toying with him, his shaft had strained, erect and leaking, against his barrel.

“She’s getting the next size up, Hick, that okay?” Branch asked, lifting Hickory’s chin. His pupils were completely blown, expression dazed. He nodded, trembling.

This time she didn’t start slowly with the new size. Slick and ridged, she slid the new glass toy to the base with a wet slap. Its head pressed firmly against his prostate. She began a short, rapid rhythm, giving him no escape, only constant stimulation to the bundle of nerves. Hickory felt himself hurtling toward a peak he’d never reached before.

“Hickory- look at me.” Poppy’s demand bore no questioning, and he obeyed, holding tight to Branch. Her grin was smug.

“We’ll forgive you, always, sweetheart...but for this evening’s transgressions,” She began to grind the toy as deep as it would go, causing him to cry out in pleasure. She paused for a second, making his eyes widen, and-

“I’ll pardon you if you cum for us.”

Hickory wailed as the intense orgasm crashed through him, his cock untouched. His lover kept up the pressure, milking him for every drop, every second of bliss. 

She eased up with a signal from Branch as Hickory mumbled “snow”, overstimulation sending electric zings up his spine. Poppy carefully pulled the toy from him, making the centaur sob at the loss. He saw her bundle the toys in a towel and then hurry back to the bed, her hands stroking whatever skin she could touch.

“Oh, sweetie, you did so good for us, I’m so pleased with you.” She began kissing his shoulders and cheek, nuzzling into his hair. Together, Branch and Poppy pulled his torso across both their laps, wrapping a blanket around him. 

"I...did okay?" The yellow troll stuttered, still trembling from his high. 

"You did wonderfully. How are you feeling?"

"S'amazin'," he mumbled.

"All is forgiven, sweetheart," Poppy repeated, brushing hair away from his eyes. Branch nodded, weaving his broad fingers through Hickory's larger ones. Poppy kissed them both, and got up with a whispered promise to be right back. She returned with another set of warm damp towels, scented with her shampoo. She scrubbed every inch of Hickory until he was no longer uncomfortably sticky and was surrounded with her scent. She repeated this with Branch, only she also handed him a cup and his bottle of white willow bark. Once he’d swallowed a pair, she draped a cold pack to the side of his face and continued the towel-bath.

Hickory made an inquisitive noise in the back of his throat, too spent to do much more. He doubted he’d even be able to walk.

“I enjoy making sure my partners are cared for, satisfied, loved,” she explained, bundling the soiled blanket and towels away. “I feel more secure knowing that I can do these things for you both, even if you can do it for yourself. If you feel safe offering me your submission, I’m going to take care of every part of you.” She grabbed a clean blanket from a stack in the corner, and pulled it over all three of them. 

“Tomorrow, let’s clean up around here, and start making plans for the trip back home.”

“Way ahead of you on plans, love.”

“Of course you are.”

Hickory let the gentle back and forth wash over him, while one word tucked him snugly in; _home._


End file.
